mmm... I want to go back to bed. I have the theme from 2001 a space oddessy stuck in the noggin. And I only work till 2. And, And...

And I wrote verse last night. I mean, I wrote /verse/. Two different peices of verse. Poetry. Song, almost. Oh my gods and whiskers.

Oh heen.

One you can find here. It's different. I think I had Auden overmuch on the brain. The other I've not typed, and might not, cause it's Anastasia's, really. Well, she can post it on her page or diary, i s'pose. If she wants.

I was going to put up something vaugely creative here, but explorer has crashed, so I can't open any documents. And I don't have enough time to type much of anything. I think.

Alan-Arnaud, I think, can hardly lay claim to Enjolraism any more. He's become too warm, without being burning. And Stephen was in my dream last night; my indespensible.

The name of his story is 'Legion'-- for they are many.

Heh -- what do I mean, 'they'?

Deja vu.

"Awaken me! Do you think that I ever sleep? I sleep no longer, Monsieur. I sometimes dream, but that is all."

-Louis XIII, from 'The Three Musketeers'.

<<agé chose>>

0 comments.notation.profile.DW.Quois.Lochinvar.smut.Tambourin.DiaryLand.DeadNazi